Vasti Jackson - Mississippi Ambassador

You were born in McComb, Mississippi—and since 2014 you are the official Cultural Ambassador of Mississippi. How did growing up in the heart of the blues shape your relationship with music? 

My relationship with music is based on family, love and life. When I think about it, I think about my grandmother, Mary Jackson, and my grandfather, Sammy Jackson—both guitar players and singers. My grandmother leaned more toward gospel and country, and my grandfather was hardcore acoustic blues. I was born into this, and it shaped my life with joy, happiness, intrigue, adventure, sharing, and uplifting people. You can’t ever escape the roots, because the basic rhythm—the shuffle of the blues—is the heartbeat. That’s our pulse. Music being a vehicle for message and communication—it has to reach people. When you express it to them and watch their reaction—it gives back to me. Now I have a dialogue with the audience. When I play music live, publicly, it is a fact of my life and my culture being expressed. 

What does be a “Mississippi bluesman” mean to you personally?

The roots of the blues, to touch the soil, the culture, the food. With the tour we’re doing—coming to your festival with the Kings of the Blues—guess what? Mississippi. You’ve got those three Kings: B.B. King, Albert King, and Freddie King. You can’t talk about the blues and not talk about Mississippi. 

What is your relationship with dance?

Baby, I’m a Black boy from Mississippi—Be it a juke joint, or even at the church, it’s a dance festival. The music moves the people. Now, in terms of style, it doesn’t matter to me what kind of dance people are doing—because people dance differently, And I celebrate with them, however they feel it. However, it moves them—witnessing that moves me inside.

In Italy, we’re bringing together dancers from all over the world. While listening to your music, communicating with you, do you have any advice for them?

No, I have no advice. What’s inside of them will react, and however they react, that’s their reaction—and I appreciate it. So, I have no instructions. If the music makes you want to move, then move. That’s not even advice—that’s just the fact. Throughout the performance, there will be something that’s going to inspire and motivate.

Your album The Soul of Jimmie Rodgers explores the connection between country music and blues. What inspired you to start that project?

The Soul of Jimmie Rodgers was inspired by a musical stage play, America’s Blue Yodeler, about the life of Jimmie Rodgers, the father of country music. I realized just how much blues influence was present in his country songs. I recorded the songs to get a better feel for them since I had to perform them on stage. I completed it as an album and released it on my own label—no promotion or marketing. The music literally spoke for itself. And for me, that was an affirmation.

What was that affirmation?

It confirmed what I had realized: the deep cultural exchange between Europeans and African Americans in Mississippi. Whether you’re talking British, Italian, whatever—when those cultures met African culture in Mississippi, especially through slavery, reconstruction, and beyond, there was a powerful musical exchange. Jimmie Rodgers was born just outside Meridian, Mississippi, and Robert Johnson was born in Hazlehurst. And I’ve done theater projects on both, so I could clearly see the connection. Personally, it touches me deeply. 

Blues has always been about storytelling. How do you write songs that honor that tradition while keeping it relevant today?

LIFE. Life has so many topics, it’s not difficult to tell a story—it just depends on what story you want to tell, and how you want to tell it.  We smile, we laugh, we cry. We’re happy, we’re sad. And then there’s new technology. They weren’t putting things like computers in songs back in 1910, back then, we might sing about picking cotton. That’s not a common subject anymore—because not many people are out there picking cotton. There’s always something happening in life to put to music. There’s a story even when there are no lyrics. Melodies and rhythms tell stories as well.

As someone still active in music, what truths matter most for you to pass on? And how does blues reflect both personal and political struggles?

Optimism. The joy of life. The ability to triumph, to be victorious, to win. There’s much better in the world than bad. Blues is not just sad music. Blues is about life, about being in love, being out of love. It’s about letting the good times roll. And if you want to sing about policy—and I use that term intentionally. If we look at the meaning and the etymology of it, everybody is a policy technician. You don’t have to work for a government to have policies. What’s the policy—the process, the protocol. How we interact with people—those are our policies. So, in that sense, we’re all politicians. Put it to music, if you feel like it. Or don’t. But either way—everybody is a policy technician.

Education seems to be a meaningful part of your journey. What legacy do you hope to leave—not just as a bluesman, but as a human being?

The reality for me is that it’s more than entertainment. It can be entertaining, yes—but it’s also healing. It has an educational component. Because when you add melody and rhythm, it becomes easier to remember. I also work with Playing for Change, which is a global movement using world music. We now have 35 schools in 20 different countries. We have a new project called Crossroads Around the World, based on the Robert Johnson, the iconic Crossroads. We recorded it with musicians from all over the world. We’ve got alternative country, blues, music from West Africa, influences from North Africa—all tied into Crossroads blues. It shows how we can come together. It’s not the musicians and the common folk who are starting wars. All of us—we just want shelter, food, clean water, good education, healthcare, protection for our children. That’s what we want to share and exchange with people around the world. 

Many of us dance blues outside its culture. We aim to respect it, but know there’s a history of appropriation—how can we do better?

I think the most important thing—really, the fundamental thing in life—is love. It's about compassion above passion. It’s about consideration. It's about that core principle: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” But when a person has a heart full of love, compassion, and a spirit of sharing and giving positively, then there’s no mistake to be made. If I come to give out of love, there can be no mistake. We humble ourselves; we adapt to blend harmoniously.  We learn so much from our mistakes, they are great opportunities, they inspire us if we keep an open mind and know that we are there to enhance life, to uplift each other. 

What role does improvisation play in how you communicate through music?

Improvisation is very important in terms of core truth and spontaneity. One thing that the blues and jazz always make room for is the individual character and personality. I have the room to improvise the lyric, from bebop to hip hop. The rappers would say "off the dome," meaning what can you give me that's not so planned, that you are inspired in the moment to respond or elaborate on. 

What about dance and improvisation?

Dancers improvise frequently, have the liberty to shimmy a little faster, a little slower, to dip a little lower or to jump a little higher, based upon your emotion. Our policy, as a dancing tech person, is to call for attention to express those things based upon your inspiration in the heat of the moment. 

And what about authenticity? What makes a piece of music or dance authentic?

My experience is truth. Sometimes, the truth isn’t pretty. Sometimes, the truth doesn’t make you want to dance fast. Sometimes the truth will make you smile. Sometimes, you might not want to hear the truth or even see it. When we talk about artists, we should get more specific and say true art. What happens when the truth is a lie?  And the truth is a true? Now that’s a lot to improvise with. I’ll leave you with that.